


Power Forward

by HeyYousGuys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyYousGuys/pseuds/HeyYousGuys
Summary: Based on a prompt by herroyalgoddess, who posted this video: https://youtu.be/rMlx3W4aq0gDean Winchester, Power Forward for the Colorado Avalanche, sees a tiny fan rinkside during warm-ups and decides to give her a souvenir. Unfortunately, the adults around her keep handing the pucks to boys and not allowing the little girl to get one. After finally getting her a puck, Dean decides to make her day even more special by pulling some favors. What he could never imagine is that he would come away with the best souvenir of the day.





	Power Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herroyalgoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herroyalgoddess/gifts).



Dean loved warm-up time before games. It always helped him focus his nervous energy. He could casually run drills and practice shots-on-goal as a way of channeling that antsy feeling that always came before game time. 

Another perk was seeing the die-hard fans, those who had arrived early enough to watch the team warm-up and who loved the game enough to appreciate watching skill drills. And who loved the game enough to arrive before alcohol sales began. That was probably why most of the fans who turned up to watch warm-ups were parents with their kids. Less exposure to drunk morons who cussed at the players and cheered when fights broke out.

Admittedly, hockey wasn’t the most family-friendly sport. That was usually baseball. Even still, with all of its fights and drunk fans and cussing, there were always families there. Dean expected that on themed night, such as Paw Patrol Character Night. But tonight was $1 Draft Beer Night. Dean expected to see almost no children here. And, yet, there were kids waving to him from the other side of the glass. 

He skated over to a group of kids, most of whom were wearing team jerseys, and waved. He noticed a group of what he figured were siblings, two brothers and their little sister, down in front. The girl seemed particularly excited to see him, banging her hands on the glass and donning a huge smile upon seeing him. He had noticed her a few times already. Every time he skated near the group of kids, the little girl seemed excited to see him. He knew what he had to do.

Dean skated over to a group of pucks lying on the ice: the practice pucks players used during warm-ups. He grabbed one off of the ice and skated back over to the group of kids. He used his stick to point to the little girl, indicating that the puck was for her. The grown ups behind her, presumably her dad and his friends, nodded as though they understood his intentions. But when he tossed the puck up and over the glass, the man who caught it, the one who had nodded, handed it to one of the boys next to the girl. 

As the girl turned to watch the puck being handed to the boy, Dean saw the name on the back of her jersey: Winchester. Oh, now he HAD to make sure this little darling got a puck! As she turned back around after watching the boy get the puck, Dean’s heart broke at the look on the little girl’s face. She was clearly sad that her puck had been given to someone else. But she didn’t fight, didn’t cry, didn’t even ask an adult to intervene. She merely went back to watching warm-ups, with a sullen expression on her face. 

“Oh, hell no!” Dean said to himself. He skated back over and grabbed another puck. Once again, he pointed his stick at the little girl, to show who the puck was intended for. Once again, the jackass dad handed the puck to a boy, this time the little boy on the girl’s other side. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dean mumbled under his breath. 

What the hell was wrong with this dad? It was clear that Dean intended the pucks to go to the girl, but her dad kept handing them to her brothers first. Dean was having none of this sexist bullshit. 

Dean could see the girl’s expression falling again. So he pounded on the glass couple time to get her attention. He smiled at her and was delighted when she smiled back. He skated over and grabbed yet another puck. This one was going to go to that little girl or so help him God, he was going to break the glass and give it to her himself! 

Before tossing the puck skyward, he made sure to indicate again that the puck was intended for the little girl. The dad nodded again, but Dean didn’t trust him. The jackass had already nodded at him twice but had defied him both times. Dean was shaking in anger. That asshole had better give this puck to his daughter this time! 

As he tossed the puck up, Dean was shaking so much that he missed. His heart shattered a little more as he saw the expression on the girl’s face, thinking she was being denied a puck once more. Dean quickly picked the puck up and started to toss it again. This time, he knew he was releasing it too late, so he held onto it and brought his arm back down. One last time. He could do this. 

He tossed the puck up and watched as the dad finally handed it to the little girl! “Good thing, too, asshole,” Dean mumbled under his breath. He watched as the girl jumped up and down excitedly, holding the puck up and out for someone several rows up to see. Dean followed her line of sight and noticed a dark haired man in a suit and trenchcoat, who looked entirely out of place, beaming down at the girl. 

Ah! So this was the girl’s father! And the men behind her who had been giving the pucks to the boys were… Well, Dean didn’t know who they were in relation to the girl. But he knew they were assholes. Movement caught Dean’s eyes and he looked down at the girl again. She was jumping up and down and cuddling the puck to her neck, as though hugging it. Dean smiled widely at her, glad to have finally gotten a souvenir to the kiddo.

He knocked on the glass to get her attention again. Her radiant smile greeted him as she looked up at him in awe. He gave her a thumbs up and she returned in. Then he put his hand against the glass, asking for a high five. The girl jumped up and down before high fiving him through the glass. 

Dean noticed the asshole dad leaning down with his hand out, as though waiting to give Dean a high five, too. Dean immediately pulled his hand off of the glass and speared the man with his angriest look. The man shrunk back in surprise. He quickly lowered his gaze and mumbled something to his kids. The two boys looked from the rink to their dad and back again before following their dad up the stands and, presumably, to their seats. Dean felt bad for the kids, but he didn’t feel the least bit bad for their misogynistic father. 

He skated a few quick laps and ran a few drills, every now and then glancing over to where the little girl still stood rinkside, clutching her puck with adoration and watching the players as though nothing made her happier in the world. Dean noticed that the man in the suit had moved closer and was now standing next to the girl. 

“What’s up with the suit?” Dean thought to himself. Did the dude just come from the office and had to rush to the game with his daughter? Maybe he was some high ranking executive and his assistant brought the girl here, only to have her father meet them later? Maybe he was just an uptight guy who indulged his little girl in a sport that he himself could care less about? 

Noticing how happy the girl looked, Dean skated over and intentionally iced the glass in front of her. Even with all of the noise around them, he could hear her gleeful giggles. He skated next to the glass, now covered in frost and dewdrops from the melting ice shavings. He took off his gloves and wrote “Hi!” in the condensation. The girl jumped up and down in excitement once more and waved eagerly. Underneath that, he wrote “What seats?”. He waited a moment, to make sure her father had read it, and wiped the condensation away with the sleeve of his jersey. 

Dean was blown away by the image that greeted him when the glass was wiped clean. Up close, this girl’s father was the hottest man Dean had seen in a long time. Just-fucked dark hair, intensely-deep blue eyes, and the most kissable lips Dean had even seen. Holy shit! Now was NOT the time to be getting hard. Hockey pants left very little to the imagination. 

The man was smiling, obviously pleased at Dean giving his attention to the man’s daughter. The man pressed his tickets against the glass so Dean could read the seat numbers. Dean scanned the stands and noted where the seats were: nosebleeds. Nope! No way! Dean was not having that. He held up a finger, indicating that the man should wait. 

Dean skated over to Charlie, the team’s statistician and one of Dean’s best friends. She was sitting on the team’s bench, in their box on the side of the rink. Dean leaned against the railing that separated the box from the rink.

“What’s up, amigo?” Charlie greeted him with a radiant smile.

“See the little blond girl in section A?” Dean pointed his stick toward the girl. 

“Yeah, what about her?” Charlie asked.

“Her and her dad are in the nosebleeds. I want them moved closer, if possible. I’ll pay for the tickets if the box office won’t upgrade them for free.” 

“Hmmm,” Charlie waggled her eyebrows, “Dad must be pretty hot for you to be giving favors.” Dean immediately felt his face and ears flush. 

“No! That’s not why.” Charlie leveled him with a skeptical look. “Okay, that’s not the only reason why!” Charlie smirked at him, satisfied. “I was trying to give the girl a puck earlier and these jackass adults behind her kept catching the pucks and giving them to boys around her but not her. It pissed me off. So I want to do something nice for the kid. She deserves it!”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice. Sticking it to misogynists is my favorite sport!” Charlie chuckled. 

“Thanks, Red!” Dean said, leaning over the railing and giving Charlie a kiss on the cheek. 

Dean skated back toward his team and continued running drills. After a few minutes, he noticed Charlie approach trenchcoat man and his daughter. Dean couldn’t discern exactly what was being said but, from the excited reaction of the girl, Dean knew that Charlie had managed to upgrade their seats. Dean smiled as the man looked around the rink, trying to spot him. Dean intentionally turned his focus back to his warm-up drill. He didn’t want the man’s thanks or praise. He had wanted to do that for the little girl. She deserved better than the heartbreak she had momentarily experienced during the Puck Incident. 

\- - - 

Dean, being one of the star players for the Avalanche, saw a lot of action during game time. It was only in the final quarter that Dean got to take a break on the bench as other players got a chance to see game play. The Avalanche were up by 4, thanks to Dean channeling his anger at Misogynistic Dad into intense game play and scoring two hat tricks in this game. With the game 3-7 and only ten minutes left of game play, Dean was allowed to relax on the bench. Exhausted, Dean removed his helmet and ran a hand through his very sweaty hair. He grabbed a water bottle and took a swig before squirting some water onto his head. 

“So I asked loverboy to stay after the game so you could meet him,” Charlie whispered in his ear. Dean, water still running down his face, turned to look at her incredulously. 

“What?!” 

“Relax, Dean! I told him you wanted to sign the puck for the kid. I didn’t tell him how his bedroom hair gave you the feels.” She teased. He ran a hand over his face to wipe the excess water away. 

“Fuck you, Charlie,” he replied lightheartedly. 

“With any luck, you won’t be fucking me, you’ll be fucking that delectable piece of man meat over there.” She jerked her head to the side, indicating where the girl and her father sat. Dean’s gaze followed the direction and landed on Mr. Trenchcoat himself, who was currently staring at Dean and Charlie in confusion. Head tilted to the side, brows knitted together, it was clear that Mr. Trenchcoat knew that Dean and Charlie were talking about him. Dean turned about fives shades of red and looked away. 

“You don’t even know if he’s single. Or if he swings my way,” Dean muttered, still fighting off the embarrassment of being caught discussing Mr. Trenchcoat by the man himself. 

“Except that I do,” Charlie replied in a sing-song voice. “See, I know Castiel and Claire from our local PFLAG group. Cas is gay and raising his niece on his own after his brother and sister-in-law died in a car wreck. And little Claire just LOVES Dean Winchester, star Power Forward for the Colorado Avalanche. Her room has like 8 posters of you plastered on the walls, Dean.”

“You’ve been in the kid’s room?!” Dean almost choked on his own intake of air. 

“Castiel hosted our monthly brunch a few weeks ago. I was there. Claire started talking about hockey and I mentioned I work for the Avalanche as the team’s statistician. So she grabbed my hand and dragged me to her room. I had to do my best not to laugh at the sight of so many posters of you on her walls. The kid worships you, Dean!” Dean looked back over to where Castiel and Claire sat, just a few rows up from the team’s bench. Once again, Castiel was looking right at Dean. Only this time, he was smiling shyly. Upon making eye contact with Dean, Castiel blushed and bit his lip. Dean felt his face heat once more but he plastered on his million dollar smile and winked at the guy. 

“You’re shameless!” Charlie said, laughing as she turned her attention back to the game and back to her job. 

Dean let his focus drift back to the game as time ticked down and the Avalanche’s victory was sealed. But he was giddy inside. A giddiness he had not felt in a long time. As time ticked down to 00:00, Dean put his helmet back on and joined his team on the ice to shake hands with the opposing team. 

As his teammates made their way back to the locker room, Dean removed his skates and walked down a hallway that lead out to the seating area. As he emerged, he saw Castiel and Claire waiting patiently for him at their seats. He made his way over, feeling slightly gross due to post-game sweat and slightly silly due to his lack of shoes. But presentation could wait. He had a potential boyfriend to meet and a mega-fan to spoil with autographs and hugs and high fives. 

“Hey, Claire!” He shouted when he was close enough. 

“You know my name?!” The blond girl squealed with excitement and ran towards him. 

“I sure do, young lady!” Dean beamed at her, pausing with his arms open to catch her in a hug. She landed in his arms, almost knocking him backwards. He laughed as she squeezed him with all of her might. After several minutes of just holding onto each other, Claire let go and looked up at him. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said shyly. 

“Do what? Meet my biggest fan?” Dean winked at her. She fought back a smile.

“You didn’t have to meet me just to make me feel better about those sexist jerks!” The fire in her eyes was undeniable. Dean knew then and there that he loved this kid already. 

“Hey, look at me,” Dean said, taking Claire’s hand. “I wanted to meet you because of how you handled that situation. You didn’t cry. You didn’t hit. You didn’t even ask your dad to intervene. You took it like a champ. And anyone who is mature enough not to start a fight, even though they have every right to, deserves something special to happen to them. I wanted to meet you because you’re my hero, Claire!” The look on the girl’s face made Dean’s heart soar. She barreled back into him, this time actually knocking him over. He laughed as he righted himself but continued to hold her tight. “I mean it, kiddo. I don’t know how you didn’t turn around and deck that guy. But I’m proud of you for not doing so!” 

“Uncle Cas says that violence is never the answer,” was her reply.

“Uncle Cas is right,” Dean affirmed, making eye contact with Castiel, who had just arrived and who looked so damn grateful that Dean wanted to cry. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Any time, Cas,” Dean took one arm off of Claire to shake Castiel’s hand. 

“Claire Bear, let the nice man breathe, please,” Cas laughed. 

“It’s really okay, Cas,” Dean said, giving Claire a squeeze. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone so awe-inspiring. I’m hoping some of Claire’s badassery will absorb through osmosis and make me even stronger!” Dean winked at Cas, hoping he would forgive the bad language in the pursuit of ego-boosting the kid. Castiel rolled his eyes but smiled and Dean felt lighter than air. God, how was he falling so hard and so fast for these two humans he had just met? 

“Hey, Squirt,” Dean looked down as Claire pulled away from him, “where’s the puck I was going to autograph?” Castiel pulled the puck out of an inner pocket of the coat and handed it to Dean. Dean looked around, realizing he didn’t have anything to sign the puck with. “Shoot! I don’t have a Sharpie! Sorry.” 

“That’s okay, Dean,” Claire said, clearly deflated but putting on a good face. 

“I guess I’ll just have to sign it at dinner on Thursday, huh?” Dean looked up at Castiel hopefully. He could see the man struggling to understand Dean’s intentions. Dean didn’t blame him. After all, when you’re raising your dead brother’s child, you’re bound to be extra cautious with the kid. 

“Dinner?” Claire asked, confused.

“Sure. If you guys are free that evening, I could meet you at a restaurant somewhere.” Dean trailed off, sure that his invite was going to be rejected.

“Isn’t that a little public for you?” Castiel inquired.

“People don’t usually recognize me. No one really cares about hockey enough to recognize me outside of games and promotional events.” Dean shrugged modestly. 

“I beg to differ,” Castiel nodded toward Claire. Dean raised his eyebrows in question. “She’s noticed you a couple of times. I just wouldn’t let her bother you in public, when you’re trying to live your life.” 

“I wish you would’ve,” Dean whispered, staring intensely into Castiel’s eyes. He knew it was silly to be open with his feelings. But he was feeling raw from the possible rejection he was sure was coming any second now. 

“I wish I’d known,” Castiel whispered back. In that moment, the world around them disappeared and Dean only saw Cas. For several minutes, they simply stared into one another’s eyes, waiting, hoping. It wasn’t until Dean heard a tiny throat being cleared that he tore his gaze away from Cas. He looked over to see Claire standing with her hands on her hips and an ‘are you two seriously eye fucking in front of an 8 year old’ expression on her face. He had to laugh. The kid was very wise for being such a young age. 

“So…” Dean said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, “...about that dinner?” 

“Of course.” Dean let out a sigh of relief at Cas’s words. “We’ll see you Thursday, Dean,” Cas said, handing Dean his phone, which was open to “create new contact”. Dean quickly put in his information and smiled excitedly. He handed the phone back to Cas, who nodded at Claire and then Dean. “I promised her a photo.” A blush fell over his face and Dean knew the photo wasn’t just for Claire’s sake. 

“How about a few photos?” Dean winked, causing Cas to blush even more furiously. Cas nodded, still too embarrassed for words. Dean posed with Claire for the first photo, then solo for the second photo. 

He pulled the phone out of Cas’s hands and handed it to Claire before tugging Cas close to him. “You know how to take a picture on Cas’s phone?” He asked the kid.

“Duh, Dean!” Claire replied and took the phone. “Just don’t makeout or whatever during the picture! I mean, I already go to therapy, but we don’t need to give me any other issues to work through!”

Dean chuckled as he pulled Cas against him. He turned his face so he was nuzzling Cas’s neck, but he didn’t take it any further. Just a cute, cuddly, and romantic picture for Castiel to keep on his phone. Nothing too traumatic for Claire. She snapped the photo before pretend-gagging and handing the phone to her uncle. Blushing furiously, and still too embarrassed to say anything, Cas made sure to send the photo to Dean before pocketing his phone and looking down at the ground, a dopey grin on his face.

“We’ll see you Thursday, Dean,” Castiel said, toeing the shoe against the floor and thrusting his hands in his pockets.

“I look forward to it,” Dean said, squatting down to give Claire a goodbye hug. After releasing her, he sauntered over to Cas and wrapped his arms around him, too. “I like this flushed look on you,” he whispered in Cas’s ear, making sure that Claire couldn’t hear him. “I look forward to seeing what else I can do to make you flush like this.” He pulled away and winked at Castiel before pressing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Dammit Dean, that’s not fair,” Cas whispered back. 

“Thursday,” Dean whispered the promise before letting Castiel go. He watched Cas and Claire leave, so excited for Thursday that he could hardly stand it.


End file.
